Forging Progress at the Taejah River Arsenal
Taejah River Ordnance Bureau
Power can now be generated using waterwheels for hydropower. Adding a filtration system wouldn't be bad either. Just layer gravel, coarse sand, and fine sand sequentially in a massive cement tank. Chlorine disinfection might be tough, though. As the water passes through the sand layers, bacteria get trapped and filtered out—for disinfection, well... let's try using charcoal. With this level of technology, public water supplies or communal laundry spots might even be feasible. I've already set up a small workshop near Gaegyeong producing kaolin clay. Scaling it to factory size is straightforward. The cement coming out of there will form pipes or roads, putting us beyond reproach compared to original history. With the population booming, properly securing water supplies and drinking water will keep us from ending up like Joseon.
Pipes make sewers possible, and even flush toilets aren't out of reach. You see it in games all the time, right? Master one technology, and it unlocks a cascade of related advancements. Reality follows the same logic. And I've got the sheer willpower to make it happen.
In most alternate history novels, implementing even one project drags on forever. They all share the same flaws: chaotic backdrops like the Joseon era, where everyone's too busy meddling and even the royals cower before China, or protagonists from hopelessly low social strata. But this is Goryeo. I'm the next military regent, with authority bordering on outright dictatorship. There's nothing I can't ram through.
Land reform, dismantling the ho clans, slave emancipation, crushing the Mongols—these four pillars have cleared away most obstacles to deploying future knowledge. With the military regime's perfect momentum, what's the holdup? The navy for expeditions and fleets is ready; just dispatch them. For new city planning, test it out in Yoyang within two years, then Gaegyeong—or maybe rebuild Seogyeong, the old Goguryeo capital. Follow that with a Great Wall across Yodong, and by the time the Mongols set their sights on us again, iron wire entanglements and fortresses boasting heavy firepower and defenses will be waiting. No matter how many Mongols swarm, Goryeo won't crack. In history, they needed a second war to break us—and that failed. The result? A flawless defensive bulwark.
From the Mongols' perspective, it's a tragic impasse where they can't even exact revenge. While they march west, we ramp up sea routes and tech trees. Machines let one person handle the work of ten.
Now, here's something even more interesting: I'm diverging from Song China's coke production methods. Well, I'm following their approach for now, but with my knowledge and tech level, I've found a way to push further. The Central Plains artisans don't know coke blast furnaces? No problem—that made it easier. Song wasn't called pre-Industrial Revolution for nothing; they had coke steelworks. A technological feat centuries ahead of the West's Industrial Revolution.
Of course, they didn't transition to steam-powered machinery like Britain. But this Goryeo is different from Song. Song used cold air blasts for coke; we're employing Cowper hot blast stoves. With hundreds of waterwheels already in play, I built piston-driven large blowers powered by them, added Cowper stoves, tapped into Manchuria's abundant resources, and leveraged the military regent's power. The synergy let me erect a coke steelworks.
Pistons, Cowpers—fancy English terms might raise eyebrows for this era, but anyone with a bit of knowledge can manage it. So what's the difference from Song methods? Song blew in plain cold air, guzzling fuel with limits on internal temperatures. But preheating air with waste gas cuts fuel to a third of Song's steelworks while multiplying output several times over—overwhelming efficiency. And superior quality, naturally. This alone is a massive technological revolution.
We've introduced water-powered production, so spinning wheels, looms, and such are next—especially threshers for farmers. Threshers are exactly what's needed right now; might as well develop them.
"That mountain spirit really exists, huh?"
"Why the sudden vote of confidence?"
His gobsmacked expression suggested something awfully rude was brewing.
"It's just... for a lady to come up with such grand contraptions all alone... Ow!"
I smacked Kim Jun's back before I knew it.
"Anyway, that's how it is. This much is possible for us."
Population growth helps too.
"So, liquor too?"
"Something like it."
Distilleries for soju are feasible. Traditional pot stills are inefficient; better a single-shot pot still. Copper's plentiful, no issue. Add a copper coil to prevent vapor loss. Twist long copper pipes like a snake from the wire factory, submerge the coil in a cold stream trough. Steam condenses perfectly through it—no drop wasted. Coil or whatever, translating English terms into Goryeo script will keep scribes busy. Anyway, use sweet potatoes or potatoes from soju production for saccharification to enhance flavor. Whip up soju the Mongols would love, and maybe they'll fight harder out west? Later for that.
"Anyway, with this, shall we marry off the guy who excelled at wire-drawing to a Bulgarian woman?"
About a dozen should do. Bulgarian women are prime marriage or concubine material right now, but numbers are low—tricky. Blood ties aren't bad, though. I even considered giving one to Hang, who's diligently managing the barbed wire factory.
"I've got a sister, so I'm good."
Looks like he'll gaze at me forever. Perfect loyal little brother material—not bad for me.
"But do we really need to advance this far? Honestly, in a decade or so under you, we've progressed more than three hundred years after Emperor Taejo."
Of course we do. I need to stay alive to lay the foundations for this kid's Goryeo to spark an Industrial Revolution, right?
"Goryeo's population is small, you know? Compared to others, yeah? So one person must use machines to do ten's work."
Globally, Goryeo's not tiny—sandwiched between Jin and Song skews perception; population-wise, mid-tier nation. That's precisely why we need machines. One does ten's work, freeing others for more tasks or boosting output massively. Tools are for using, right? We've secured ample labor too; integrate them into Goryeo's economy, and they'll be indispensable. That's an industrial revolution for this era.
"Ah, got it."
"Planning to make even more this time."
Spinning wheels, looms—improve our textiles, sell to Song.
"But how do you make military use of that wire?"
Guess I have to show him.
"See that? There."
I pointed to the Khitans hard at work on barbed wire. Not fully produced yet, but steadily coming along. Twisted into coils, barbed with twisted wire. Even brawling Khitans do decent work here. Khitans are Goryeo's prickly ethnic group, but their diligence shocked everyone.
"That weirdly coiled stuff?"
"Twist small wires onto it, gets grotesquely spiky. Like that."
I gestured to the emerging barbed wire. Slightly different from modern ones I recall, but they'll get the hang of it.
"Yes. What is it?"
"Doesn't look fun to touch, huh?"
Like something sticky. First time seeing the finished product myself—I just gave orders—but damn close to what I envisioned.
"Yeah, screams obstacle."
Exactly. Revolting to the touch at a glance. Even Khitans struggle making it. But idle folk need income, and Yodong's firmly Goryeo now.
"Imagine that around walls?"
"Infantry couldn't climb."
Kim Jun had ideas. Goryeo histories praise his pre-regime days despite later corruption. No risk of that here.
"Siege weapons are an issue, but better than nothing. More importantly, picture blocking paths with it."
Pile it densely on Mongol approaches, riflemen waiting behind? Prep some wagon forts, but for pure defense, superior to them. Blast matchlocks from rear—what happens? Mongol ponies cut down at our lines.
"Anti-Mongol weapon. But rain? Those thin wires look suspicious."
I had that covered.
"Of course it'll rust."
So coat it properly. Lacquer works—decent protection. Use only during wars. Trenches with it were tough even in modern times; Mongols won't last. Impaled on wire, shot by matchlocks? No chance. Great Wall in Yodong seals it. If dying Jin clings on and Song pays up with weapons, it sticks.
"Must we keep defending against Mongols? This assumes invasion."
"Charge the steppes? Our elite cavalry's 30,000 tops. Impressive, could ambush for damage."
But that's it. Never planned to exterminate Mongols. Let our Mongol pals thin out in Europe. Preps for later. First, threshers. Goryeo grows via tech. This trajectory hits ten million by 15th-19th century, assuming peace. Immortal me makes it feasible. Threshers doable now; aim for harvest in a month. Spinning looms in a year? Budget's flush.
So I summoned Yi Jang-yong, Yodong budget manager, showed him the hydropower zones, and laid out the future plan. He handles Song negotiations, Yoyang staffing shortages—de facto budget chief. He slices funds for my projects, so show him some love.
"Truly impressive. The regent outdoes himself."
"Praise?"
"Yes. With budgets like that, it's expected."
Why's he ribbing me? Typical type? Yeah. Everyone teases me now. Without talent, I'd have purged him.
"Ahem. Folks might think I'm wasteful."
He sees right through me. Too bold for a regent.
"You look eager to speak."
"I'm the next patriarch here—too much?"
You're the first man to sass me this hard. Wait, no—irritation rising. Normally, folks should be thrilled with assignments. You'll gain fame through me.
"Haha. Next patriarch, sure. But Yodong finances? Even Gaegyeong's Song trade—all on me?"
Yeah, grinding him like canned tuna, Hwang Hui-style. Military regimes gonna regime.
Convenient, though.
"That's why I introduced Arabic numerals."
Makes accounting easy, right?